


A Vampire and His Client

by myhopeandangel



Series: Alright Goodnight [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Lee Jeno, Hand Jobs, M/M, Public Sex, Recreational Drug Use, References to Drugs, Top Na Jaemin, Vampire Na Jaemin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24251500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myhopeandangel/pseuds/myhopeandangel
Summary: “Pleasure doing business with you.” Na Jaemin’s smile is charming, but his gaze is more sensual than Jeno thinks is appropriate.Jeno gulps, and Jaemin’s eyes flit down to the movement.(Jeno is in need of a fix. A certain mysterious yet charming Na Jaemin happens to be his dealer.)
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Series: Alright Goodnight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762417
Comments: 6
Kudos: 188





	A Vampire and His Client

**Author's Note:**

> wowow guys i did it. i wrote it. 
> 
> this one's for my drabble collection readers in the bottom jeno tag, thanks for writing in comments, i always enjoy reading them!!

It’s not the first time Jeno’s done this.

The rain has finally cleared enough for Jeno to watch the streets, carefully keeping his head down to avoid any unnecessary confrontation. Even on a normal day, Jeno’s eyesight isn’t great, so he definitely wants to avoid trouble.

Walking a brisk pace, he follows the path he knows by heart, maneuvering in and out of quiet streets and finally reaching an alley down left somewhere. 

It’s best if you keep your pace quick, Jeno had learnt. Better to seem like you have a destination than seem lost in a foreign neighbourhood.

Well, Jeno muses bittersweetly, this isn’t just a foreign neighbourhood to him anymore.

The dealer today is different, someone Jeno would definitely peg as out of place in such a neighbourhood. His crisp button down and grey overcoat makes him stand out, even amongst the dull background of buildings along the street. The smile he wears is a little unsettling, but otherwise quite charming. There’s a promise of something  _ more _ in them, somewhere.

Jeno shakes that thought off. Pining after his own dealer would be a nail in the coffin for him. Though this guy doesn’t seem like he’d mind a fling or two.

“Na Jaemin.”

The attractive stranger stretches his hand out in greeting. His smile is even blinding up close, causing Jeno to look down instead. He’s never been quite good at the whole social business.

There’s a dribble of crimson on his fingers, a little dry and crusty as Jeno shakes in greeting. This man might be the first one to ever initiate unnecessary contact with his customers, though Jeno knows that’s not what he should be concerned about.

It’s nothing unusual around this part of town—the bad side of town, as some of his relatives call it. Jeno would typically protest against it, but this stranger—this man—dries his throat up and kills the thoughts in his head.

Na Jaemin. A strange yet familiar name. Jeno can’t quite place a finger on it. But then again, do drug dealers give away their real names so easily?

Jeno shakes the useless thoughts away. It’s best to get this done and over with, or he might start drawing the wrong kind of attention, even in  _ this _ part of town.

They make their exchange in relative silence, but with the interested gaze this Na Jaemin has been eyeing him with since the start, Jeno can’t help but feel  _ something _ .

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Na Jaemin’s smile is charming, but his gaze is more sensual than Jeno thinks is appropriate.

Jeno gulps, and Jaemin’s eyes flit down to the movement. 

Na Jaemin’s eyes may be sharp, but when his teeth gleam bright under the blinking streetlamp, Jeno finds his teeth even sharper.

“See you around, Lee Jeno.”

His parting words are like a punch to his stomach, knocking all the air out of Jeno. The devilish smile Jaemin wears burns a memory into him, and in time, Jeno will realise why. But for now, a single red flag waves incessantly at him from the back of his head.

Jeno doesn’t remember introducing himself.

  
  


Jeno’s not really sure why he doesn’t just try planting cannabis in his own home. It’s not exactly illegal—well, if you don’t get caught anyway, as one of his friends puts it. But when Jeno looks down at his hands, he sees the scars and he’s reminded why he never gardens.

A freak accident while operating machinery. Jeno’s just thankful he’s alive.

The blunt he rolls is sloppy at best, but Jeno can’t say he’s bothered much. At the end of the day, it’s more about the quality of the weed rather than the paper.

Each hit he takes brings him closer to heaven, taking him higher into the clouds as he slumps into his chair, unable to think of anything but the stranger.

Jeno exhales and takes another drag. 

Well, not a complete stranger.

A Na Jaemin, a new dealer on the streets. He’s not flashy but he catches the attention, and he’s easy on the eyes too. Jeno was a little nervous then, but if he tries hard enough, he starts to remember the odd choice of pink of his hair, the gentle slope of his nose, the piercing look of his bright eyes.

Jeno pauses, drumming his fingers away on the table. 

Those eyes of his were certainly bright, glowing even. But it could have been attributed to the light reflecting off the streetlamp. What does Jeno know anyway. He never made it to university. 

The last thing he remembers is the unnatural sharpness of Jaemin’s teeth. It reminds Jeno of a wolf, or even a large dog. His canines were long. But Jeno isn’t a dentist nor has he studied teeth in animals, so he settles with a shrug at no one in particular and continues his session in peace.

An incessant voice whispers at him from the back of his mind, but Jeno is too high out of his mind to even discern the blare of the news from his own thoughts. 

Na Jaemin…

It’s a familiar name. 

Jeno just can't quite place his fingers on it.

  
  
  
  
  


When Donghyuck comes over, the first thing he asks is whether Jeno has head the news of another murder. It’s already the third one this week, and Jeno can’t be bothered to keep track. 

When you live on  _ that  _ side of the town, someone else’s business is exactly that—their own business. Meddling where your nose doesn’t belong will get you an express ticket to hell, and your neighbours won’t even miss you.

At this point, crime is routine already, moving like clockwork, as if criminals have a fixed schedule and they have to stick to it.

But there’s something in Donghyuck’s tone that piques his interest.

“What’s up?”

Donghyuck pulls a chair next to Jeno and sits down, tapping his lit cigarette away at the ashtray. Jeno doesn’t smoke, funnily enough, but he keeps an ashtray around just for Donghyuck, who comes over often enough for some of his more conservative neighbours to make snide comments every once in a while.

It’s funny, really, how even on  _ this  _ side of town, where your own business was your own problem, Jeno can’t even bring a guy home for a good fuck. 

Donghyuck slicks his hair back with his free hand. Jeno thinks it’s long enough to be trimmed. 

“Jeno, I think you should really consider moving.”

The second thing Donghyuck says since he last saw him, and it’s a joke, albeit a bad one with no taste. Jeno starts laughing, but Donghyuck silences him with a glare.

“I’m serious. With all these murders on the rise, I’d be surprised if  _ you  _ don’t end up dead next.”

Jeno? Dead?

Well, that’s not exactly a tantalising offer, but if it comes, it comes. Jeno is hardly in two minds about it.

Kicking his feet onto his table, Jeno mumbles, “There’s no way I’m moving, Hyuck. I don’t have the money for it, and I’m barely making ends meet as it is.”

Donghyuck takes another hit and shrugs. Neither of them do. And even if Jeno did have the money, he wouldn’t be so eager to move either. Outcasts like them don’t have a place in society. This is as good as it gets.

They continue to sit in silence, Donghyuck smoking his cigarette, and Jeno lying back on his hard plastic chair, breathing in secondhand smoke. It hits him then that the life they’re leaving is pathetic, but what does he know of the good life anyway? Sometimes, all you need is sex, booze and drugs.

Sometimes Jeno wants more.

Donghyuck is starting to blank out. He taps his cigarette ash away, silently staring at the bare walls ahead. 

The two of them are pathetic. Even if Donghyuck were to have a useful diploma lying around somewhere, it’s all gone to waste the day he came out to his friends, none of them willing to associate themselves with him anymore. And in these trying times, no one wants to hire a drug addict, especially one with a diploma in music of all things.

Jeno stands up, walking over to the kitchen counter. He picks up a bag of coke, lying it up in lines in front of him. It took him 3 months to save up enough money for the pathetic amount he has, discount included after giving a messy blowjob in a back alley somewhere, but it’s worth it. Worth being able to forget his troubles momentarily.

“Hyuck, c’mere.”

Donghyuck crushes the remainder of his cigarette into the ashtray. A silly grin forms on his face. 

“That’s more like it.”

  
  
  
  


Usually, Jeno doesn’t like doing the hard stuff. It makes him feel like crap the next day—for giving in to his temptations. As if he wasn’t strong enough to hold back from such a shitty desire. He hates this lifestyle, yet he keeps finding himself following the same cycle, over and over again.

Donghyuck’s sleeping next to him, hogging all the blanket for himself. Jeno doesn’t feel sore, so he knows they didn’t fuck while high out of their minds. They’ve never done anything more than a couple of blowjobs and Jeno wants to keep it that way.

He looks at the clock. 2.30pm. He has a shift at 3pm. Not even bothering to take a shower, Jeno shrugs on a clean shirt and leaves. Donghyuck’s already a regular to Jeno’s life at this point.

  
  
  
  


When Jeno arrives, it’s another uneventful day. The store is devoid of customers, save for the occasional hooligans that stumble in buying cigarette packets and beer, all underage. Jeno doesn’t bat an eye, doesn’t even bother pretending to check their IDs, he just scans the items and collects payment.

Because on  _ this  _ side of town, no one cares. And even if you did, well, it’s none of your goddamn business.

The time on the register says 6.49pm. Jeno’s shift is almost and he gets ready to pack up for the next employee. As he begins to remove his name tag, a gust of air blows in, bringing along the chill of mid September air. A man walks in. 

Not just any man. Na Jaemin.

The fact that Jeno can remember this Na Jaemin’s face so clearly astounds him, considering he can barely remember the face of his fellow staff. But when he takes a whiff of the air, following with it the scent of a musky cologne, and the bright pink of Jaemin’s hair, Jeno thinks it has to be even harder to forget that face.

Jaemin’s eyes are bright and sharp, looking at Jeno as he stands rooted to the tiled floor. A hint of a playful smile is on his lips, and a pink tongue runs over his bottom lip.

“Jeno, how nice to see you here.” Jaemin’s voice is even deeper than Jeno remembers. It’s pure sex. His eyes flit down to Jeno’s neck, open and inviting. Jeno wants him to put his lips there instead of using them to talk.

A familiar heat pools in his stomach as Jaemin leans forward, hands on either side of the small counter. It feels like Jeno’s being hunted—like he’s been caught. Jaemin licks his lips again and Jeno’s eyes follow the movement. He wonders if those plump lips will taste like its shade of cherry red.

A hand tilts Jeno’s chin up, grip strong on his jaw. Jaemin has the full package, from the way Jeno sees it. Attractive, strong, and mysterious. Jaemin’s eyes twinkle with a mischievous glint. 

“You smell like marijuana and cocaine, darling.” The words roll out smoothly, not at all a jab at Jeno’s bad habits, but it still makes him choke a little.

Jeno gulps and Jaemin’s eyes narrow in intently on the bobbing of his adam’s apple. When he smiles, Jeno sees the barest hint of pointed teeth, gleaming under the bright lights of the convenience store. Jeno wants to feel it on his skin, wants it to leave a mark on him.

Jaemin laughs then, a bright and cheerful sound. He drags his finger up to Jeno’s lips, now red and swollen with worry. Thumbing it down, Jaemin opens Jeno up for him, licking into his mouth like it’s not the first time they’ve done this. The kiss is all heat and desire, a base pleasure for them both. 

Jeno doesn’t know when and how, but he finds his hands digging into the back of Jaemin’s coat, trying to pull him closer as a soft whine escapes his lips. When they break away, Jaemin laughs again and Jeno’s sure he looks absolutely debauched even under the glaring white light.

“When is your shift over, Jeno?”

  
  
  
  


They don’t get to Jeno’s apartment fast enough. At the nearest bend, Jeno finds himself being shoved against the wall of a dark alley, being kissed the living daylights out of. Jaemin is impatient, tugging away Jeno’s jacket to get a good angle on his neck.

It’s cold outside yet every spot Jaemin touches feels like it’s on fire. 

Jaemin scrapes his teeth along the column of Jeno’s neck, sending a shudder down Jeno’s spine when he nicks near his jugular, licking and sucking at it. Jaemin’s sclera are almost gold under the yellow of the street lamp, and Jeno is fascinated.

Jeno knows he should stop doing so much drugs, it’s been messing with his head lately, but his thoughts grow hazy as Jaemin slides a hand down his pants, already unzipping his old worn jeans. 

Jaemin’s hands are pretty, long and thin. A pianist’s hands, he thinks distantly. His fingers start grazing over the skin of Jeno’s sensitive dick, causing Jeno’s knees buckle. He nearly slides down the wall, but Jaemin has one strong grip on his waist, keeping him up.

“You have such a pretty cock, Jeno,” Jaemin whispers into his ear, nibbling the flesh of his earlobe as he does so. It makes Jeno flush with each exhale.

The hand he has on Jeno starts sliding up the length, the slick of the dribbling precome making it messier but easier, faster. Jeno doesn’t think he can last. It’s been too long since anyone touched him so intimately, and even longer since he felt so alive. He comes into Jaemin’s warm hold, who only chuckles and cleans it off with his tongue.

“I want to fuck you, Jeno. But you’re tired already.”

Jeno smiles weakly at Jaemin’s pout, both arms still slung over Jaemin’s shoulders. The smell of sex and cologne fills the little space between them. Jeno’s panting and his heart thumps without his control, a beat to a song he can’t quite hear. 

“I’m not tired, keep going.”

Maybe Jaemin isn’t as much of a gentleman as Jeno had pegged him as. When Jaemin opens Jeno up, it’s quick and dirty, and Jeno retracts what he’s initially said about Jaemin not fitting in with  _ this _ side of town, because it’s obviously untrue. 

Jaemin would fit right in like a missing puzzle piece, if not for his deceptive appearance—that of an A-list model with too much time to while away.

And when Jaemin fucks into him, brutal and hard, Jeno’s thoughts become too incoherent for him to decipher. His head lolls back in pleasure, feeling too boneless to support himself. Everything is wet and messy, and above all, absolutely mind blowing . 

There’s a searing pain in his neck when Jaemin bites down, but Jeno’s too delirious in his high to care. There are no thoughts, only the continuous motion of Jeno being slammed into the wall as he gets filled up every single time, over and over again. 

Jaemin eyes him like he’s the prey, and when he smiles with all his teeth, Jeno thinks they look like fangs. But just as quick as the revelation comes, it’s gone again and only thoughts of how nothing else can ever compare to this occupies his head.

Jeno moans as chases after his climax, and with the help of Jaemin’s expert touch, he ends up coming all over his own stomach as Jaemin continues fucking him senselessly. Jeno feels too good to care about anything else, only bathing in the hungry gaze that rakes mercilessly over his body like he’s a meal to be eaten.

Maybe he is.

Jaemin follows soon after, coming inside Jeno with a low guttural sound, tanned thighs slapping against Jeno as he slows down to catch his breath. Someone could walk past them right now and they won’t even bat an eye. A reminder that no one else would remember this night except for the two of them.

Jeno feels sated, breathing out slowly as he rests his head on Jaemin’s shoulder. It’s better than a dildo and it’s infinitely better than sucking off a stranger. 

Although, as Jeno blinks up at Jaemin’s smile,  _ this  _ stranger is a different breed altogether.

When it’s all over, Jeno doesn’t think he can even feel his dick anymore and his ass keeps leaking out cum onto the dirty pavement, too loose to keep it in. Someone will have to clean that mess up, and it isn’t going to be him today.

Jaemin pulls his pants back up casually and runs a hand through his pink hair, a devilish smile on his face. As if this is a regular occurrence for him, barebacking strangers in public.

That’s why no matter how he seems, even with the expensive overcoat and crisp white button downs, Jeno must remember that Jaemin is no gentleman, no one good. 

And it makes Jeno laugh because Jeno’s not good news either, but Donghyuck will definitely give him an earful if he ever finds out what happened today.

Jaemin pulls him into a wet and sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue, nipping the bottom of Jeno’s lip, making Jeno moan like he hasn’t just come twice in a row. 

“See you around, Jeno.”

And then he’s gone, vanishing into the night. 

Donghyuck might kill him for what he did today, but Jeno thinks that if an opportunity like that knocks on his door again, he’d make a beeline for it right away.

  
  
  
  


It’s not even two days later when Jeno finds him waiting outside the convenience store, his clean and obviously expensive outfit glaring against the murky unwashed windows of the store. 

Jaemin flashes him a flirty grin, the same playboy-charming smile he wore when they first met, and Jeno finds himself gravitating towards him despite his promise to Donghyuck. 

It’s just something about those sharp eyes and teeth that draws him in. Completely unlike anyone else he has ever met. Not even coke and weed can bring him to a high the way Na Jaemin does. 

Jeno reaches a hand up to touch the mark Jaemin left on him that day,  two tiny punctures into his skin. 

It itches a little, but all he wants is for Jaemin to do it all over again.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> if you made it here, thanks for reading this! 
> 
> also, i dont do drugs i dont do drugs 
> 
> [my twt](https://twitter.com/myhopeandangel) which i had lying around so might as well use it
> 
> [my poetry/other short stories](https://ariestime.wordpress.com/category/poetry/) if you're interested  
> 


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